


Truly Awe-Inspiring

by ghiirah (killewich)



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 02:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3471749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killewich/pseuds/ghiirah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It only made sense a sword spirit would be drawn to power.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truly Awe-Inspiring

**Author's Note:**

> Just something my gay ass muse did like five months ago, thought I'd break in my AO3 with some old stuff. Inspired by latte-dah's art and Breath of Life by Florence and the Machine. On tumblr: http://ghiirah.tumblr.com/post/98590343827/it-only-made-sense

It only made sense a sword spirit would be drawn to power.

_Seeked it, craved it, lusted over it._

Perhaps that’s why he was completely enamored with his Master’s newest reincarnation: the Embodiment of power Itself, craving it even more than he.

_Truly awe-inspiring._

 

 

Ghirahim sucks on his lower lip, toying with it between teeth, nervous. “May I touch?” He’s asking before he can even think to stop himself, stilling. It’s soft, but he knows it’s heard, as he’s given a confused grunt in response.

His heart stops cold in his chest when the King turns to face him. Blood begins to flood his ears, adrenaline pulsing through him so quickly that it leaves him light-headed.

_Or maybe it’s that look he receives._

He parts his lips for air, only for none to be drawn in. His lungs fail him even, all processes seeming to come to a screeching halt. 

_And then that look is falling, as if uncaring as to what the demon did._

The weapon takes what he gets. 

Something takes over, the carnal desire for power, he guesses, forcing him to move forward. It’s making him reach out, gloved fingers tracing an arm, feathering over bare, dark skin. It lids his eyes, _coaxing_ and _cooing _, telling him to keep touching, keep feeling—__

_To feel what true power felt like._

If he wasn’t breathless before, he definitely was now. Ghirahim moves from biceps to shoulder, then gives a cautious glance to Its Owner. It’s clear the Other has lost interest, aside from a disgruntled look here and there. 

Swallowing thickly, he trails to the Sovereign’s chest. Everything goes fuzzy at the edges, and he swears heat flushes through him, if it were able to. 

He’s not sure when he took to two palms, but he’s traversing sculpted flesh, jaw hanging loose the lower he goes. 

_A firm hand takes easy hold of both wrists._

He’s tugged roughly out of his stupor. Apparently he had moved low enough for the King’s liking. The Demon Blade gives a flutter of eyelids, blinking up at the Larger, clearly confused. 

_Never one to waste words, He forces the hands back, then raises from His seat._

Nearly choking on his tongue, he forces his vocal cords to make some sort of sound. He’s left only swallowing down dryness, sputtering. He holds his hands together, wringing them nervously, palm to palm, gloved fingertips resting on the tops of hands. 

_A loud exhale through His nose is all he’s given_ , and obviously He’s lost interest in the servant. 

Ghirahim closes his mouth, and settles for bowing his head. "Sorry, Master." After clearing his throat, he continues. "I won’t bother you any longer. I’ll take my leave, if you wish." Attentive eyes flicker up to the One in question. 

_A nod is received, it dismissive._

"Thank you, Lord." He gives a curt bow, then swiftly dips out, the flutter of red announcing his leave. The sword can’t help but smile, regardless of what was to become of his little stunt. 

_Drawn to power._

Surely his Master understood. 


End file.
